#knee instability

[winterslonelysoldier]

God. Fuck. Kill me. I need actually knee braces that will actually support me. I need my knees to stop hyperextending. I need support for the instability. I need something that will actually support my weight so I don't have to constantly offload it onto everything else around me. But I can't afford anything, I can't afford even the Walmart braces, let alone the good braces I know I need. Fuck being disabled. I hate my joint instability. I hate having a connective tissue disorder. I hate being broke as fuck. I need moneyyyy.

[consider-your-potatoes-mashed]

Okay so I’ve tried taping my knees in the past with KT tape and stuff like it but I haven’t done it in a while so I decided to get some target brand tape. It claims to be water resistant and designed to last for 3 days so I decided eh it’s about $6 ($14 less than KT branded) so let’s try it. One of the strips didn’t even last 10 minutes and the others didn’t last more than an hour. Like wtf. I wasn’t even in water I was just walking around and sweating a little (sure a little for me is probably a lot for other people cause I sweat a lot but still) how the fuck can it claim to be water resistant if it can’t even withstand some sweat??????

I just wanted something to help with my pain and stability today while I worked but I guess that’s not gonna happen. Does anyone have any tricks for getting tape to stay? Or any alternatives other than braces cause sometimes I don’t want to have to wear something so bulky especially if it’s just gonna end up sliding down anyways.

[zebrasbazaar]

Update I probably could have added months ago...

Result: There's no cartilage left in there. If my other knee was sound (which it isn't) and if I didn't have EDS, they would give me a knee replacement. So, I might get to review my braces (but I missed the appt as I had 'flu) but I've not heard back to rearrange... so it's a case of carry on with over the counter pain relief as needed until it gets worse, then possibly stronger pain meds and injections until they have to risk a replacement (which has a worse prognosis in EDS patients.

So far, I'm managing (with only one crutch too, since my shoulder went out! 😅). C'mon glitchy bod. You can do it.

I had the yearly rheumatology check-up I should have had in April yesterday (it's November). I was told I need an MRI on my knee (which subluxates even in a brace whilst using crutches) and that I'd have to wait 6 weeks. Then I get a phonecall saying they can fit me in next week. Did they rush it through? Why?

Dear right knee, just how bad are you? You make me forget you're hypermobile and arthritic sometimes and then others, refuse to bend (or straighten) and complain when I ask you to just bear my weight. Ok, a little more weight than would be ideal but not way off the mark.

Seriously though, I wouldn't be surprised if they refer me for surgery. The brace isn't enough. My left knee isn't great either but one at a time, just one at a time.

[robinsnest2111]

...my knee still hurts like hell. sure do hope it's just the post twist sprain/bruising and it'll eventually go back to normal...

[normal-with-adhd-is-a-joke]

my knees have been wiggly lately. Cease at once. You're not supposed to move side to side like that.

[thelastspeecher]

as if I don't have enough going on in my life, my Cringe Ankle™ is continuing to be cringe as fuck

[deadrlngers]

okay let's speak hypothetically here. i know eldritch blast has a disadvantage if you cast it too close to the enemy etc etc but let's think for a moment, let's pretend for the sake of fucked upness and joy of slaughter that i'm thinking of smth, thinking of violante doing some shit like interrogation or simply enjoying being a little evil and has in her clutches the head of some poor soul on their knees in front of her asking for their life to be spared and a icy wicked dolor slips from her lips and she blows up the poor soul's head in an explosion of blood and other red goo and the companions are all looking at her with the most disgusted expression ever and she's covered in blood and isn't bothered by it and. idk what was my point here anyways hypothetically speaking i'm brainstorming smth i want to write

[lclthlcved]

Kinda. Glad I'm taking a break.

Still hope everyone is doing ok. Um...yeah I'll be on discord if anyone needs me. Working on my campaign or like. Idk. Less all of. This happening on the dash rn

[thehallstara]

hey if anyone i know deals with subluxations, what do they feel like?

[cameronwillow]

Sleeping beauty

Rafe Cameron x fem reader

Imagine Rafe Cameron is stalking you but he doesn’t know you actually like it.

Warnings! Stalking, Somno, dub-con, oral, fem receiving, unprotected sex. Reuploaded!

You had accidentally discovered Rafe Cameron following you around during one of your shopping trips at the grocery store. The start of it, you weren’t certain but you caught him lurking in the background as you walked through the aisles.

You wondered if he was so mesmerized by the fact that you didn’t externally show your attraction to him or it was the way you wore dark clothes, pink accessories and little bows in your hair. Soon, you started to play along. Leaving your curtains open at night in your apartment. Making sure to purposely leave your panty drawer open when you would hear him sneak into your bedroom while he thought you were asleep.

You’d hold your stuffed animal, curled into a ball while you listened to him huff and groan as he tugged at his dick with your thongs in the dark. It was sick. The way he let himself in. The way he covered your items with his cum and pretended nothing was out of the ordinary when you ran into him.

Today, you saw his car as you sat outside on the front steps. You hid a smirk as he revved the engine, taking a phone call angrily before he drove off in a hurry.

It was a dangerous game to play. You knew that. Rafe Cameron was known for his emotional instability and rash reactions. He was always around while you were in high school. The bad boy who partied, snuck out and got into trouble while his princess of a sister complained to you about him.

You wanted him. Badly. You liked his darkness. You were a moth to his flame. Maybe it was because you held some of that sickness in yourself that others couldn’t see behind your innocent looking eyes.

Tonight you waited. You took your time in your bath, moisturizing your body and wore your favorite pajama set with delicate panties underneath. You left your door unlocked and the window unlatched. The lights were off but the lingering scent from a candle hovered in the air. You breathed quietly as you turned on your side as Rafe walked through your home. You always recognized his heavy footsteps.

You bite your lip to keep silent as he eases open your door, closing it behind him and you use the corner of your eye to see his figure lingering in the corner.

It felt dangerous to keep playing this game but you were rendered still as you felt his hand brush against your blankets, trailing up until he felt the soft flesh of your shoulder.

“You’re so fuckin pretty while you sleep…” He mutters and his fingers caress your neck. “I bet you’re soaking wet right now.” The last part of his sentence came out as a growl.

He removed the quilt and you felt his weight maneuver so he was shifting you on your back. Your knees separated as you kept your body limp. Rafe moaned as he looked at the wet patch in-between your thighs. “I need to taste it.”

Rafe pulls down your panties and lowers himself on his stomach. He presses his face against your cunt, groaning deeply as he laps at your clit. “God, you taste so fuckin good. Sweet as an angel,” He praises and his palms tremble as he kneads your thighs.

He let out a pornographic moan as he eagerly sucked and licked your cunt. It was almost impossible to stay still, your digits flexed and your jaw clenched. God, it felt so good. Rafe started grinding down on the bed.

“Could cum just from this sweet girl. Can’t get enough, fuck,” He mutters and you finally break.

You grab his hair, wrapping your thighs tightly around his head and your hips raise. “Rafe, don’t stop, please.” You rasp and Rafe huffs with an excitement that further arouses you. And frightened you.

“Dirty little girl. You like this? You like me eating this pretty pussy while you’re asleep?” Rafe moved his head around and your vision went white as your orgasm crashed. Your stomach uncoiled and you whined loudly.

Rafe tongue fucked you through it, leaning up to stick his thumb in your mouth, he spits inside on your tongue. “You taste too good. I had to share. I need to fuck your pussy, my fist around my dick isn’t enough,”

He pulls down his pants and underwear, his cock slapping against his thigh with his red leaking tip. “Gonna breed this perfect cunt, stuff you full and make sure nothing spills out.” He promises and slams into you.

You let out a sharp gasp as he wraps his hand around your throat, your legs tangling around his torso and you feel your body move with his thrusts. “Fuck! Squeezing me so tight I can barely move. God, you’re so pathetic. A helpless little puppy. Can’t believe you left your door unlocked,” Rafe grunts as his eyes are blackened.

“I did it on purpose,” You admit with a wheeze, “I knew you were coming in. I wanted you to fuck me,”

Rafe snarls as he humps into you wildly and you feel like you’re going to split in half. “You’re even more disgusting than I thought. Needy girl wanting my dick so bad, you let me in.”

He taps your cheek with his, moving his hand from your throat to your tit. “These are all mine, everything about you is mine. I own you, and you will never fucking doubt it, princess.” He promises.

You feel his cum spill into you, a warm rush filling you up as he jerks with his cock twitching in you. Rafe gives your ass a slap, hard enough that you let out a whimper and climax again.

“Fuck! Oh god, needed your dick so bad. Please, please, please, fuck me again. Fuck me until I can’t even breathe anymore.” You beg with tears in your eyes.

“God damn little bunny. Don’t worry. I’m gonna make you into my cum slut until the only thing you think about is my name.”

Dividers by @cafekitsune

@bloodibambiidoll @cxrrodedcoffin @starkeysprincess @rafesangelita @sturnioloshacker @oceanblvd111 @oceandriveab @redhead1180 @hornyxdreams @rafeyscurtainbangs @eddiesxangel @userchai @stillwjk-channie-lixie @starkeysbabygirl @cameronsprincess @marchsfreakshow

[zarnzarn]

Athena shoots upright as soon as her eyes fly open, gasping. She calls on her spear and slashes in a brutal curve, provoking shouts from the enemies who'd been holding her down as they back off. Bares her teeth in a snarl as she grabs the sheets off the bed to whip at the eyes of the assailants and-

Light floods into her eyes as they step away from her attack and she freezes as she remembers a flash of brightness too fast to escape, heat and burning like never before, electricity that seeped into her very bones, thunder that deafened, lightning that hurt-

"Get back!" She hears and turns unsteadily back to- back to where Apollo is pulling Ares back by the cape against the far wall. Apollo. Ares. Aphrodite, Aephestus, Artemis.

"Wh-" She manages, before she's bowled over, coughing. She has never done it before, and she can't stop it from happening- chest rattling as her knees give out, barely holding herself up with her spear in time to reach the bed. It doesn't stop, doesn't stop, plumes of smoke escaping her mouth as she can't stop, can't breathe-

"Athena," Hera whispers, and a rough hand gently touches her on the shoulder, handing her a glass of nectar. She accepts it gratefully, tilting her head back to down it. It's soothing like it's never been before, stoping the coughing at last and it clears her headache long enough to realize that she isn't in her armour- she's in a chiton.

"Where is my armour?" She rasps as soon as she can, wiping her mouth. Looks around- Apollo's chambers.

She'd always known being the favourite wouldn't protect her forever. But repeating the words didn't seem to reduce the hurt.

Nor the shaking fear.

"-not!" Apollo is saying, indignantly setting his hands on his hips. "Do you have any idea how hard you got hit? You're lucky I could even stabilize your aspect enough to reduce some of the damage, otherwise you'd still be having a seizure back at Mount Olympus!"

"Mount Olympus," Athena mutters oddly, without much intent to it. She tries to stand again and her vision suddenly cuts out, provoking a round of screams as she loses her balance.

When the world blurrily comes back into focus- and she doesn't like this, hates this sudden weakness; she's always been able to get back up from any blow, has never visited a medical chamber in her existence, even when they had to fight the Titans- she's in Ares' arms, oddly horizontal.

"Cease this stupidity, sister," Artemis hisses at her as she grabs onto Athena's arms to bring her back to the bed. "Calm yourself. You are alive. You are safe."

"My armour," Athena says, voice cracking, head rolling oddly on her neck, unable to look upright. She catches a glimpse of Aephastus holding onto a sobbing Aphrodite, staring at her with a strange sort of sorrow.

Something twinges in Athena's chest in reply, but she stumbles before she can address it, feeling a fission of panic at the instability before Ares' grip on her tightens enough to keep her upright. They're all staring at her like that, she realizes, with that same horrified heartbreak.

"Didn't Artemis just tell you to cease stupidity?" Ares barks, though it's rather quietly said, for him. He adjusts her on the bed until she can lean back against the pillows. His hands are shaking, and Athena stares at them with curiosity. "Weren't you the one to lecture me half to death about when to remove the armour?"

"What," She says weakly, then moans as an aftershock trembles through her, residual sparks humming maliciously as they exit her skin, leaving her trembling. "I- hmmm, what? What were- what were-"

"Athena, calm down, please, you're scaring us," Hera says, bangles jangling as she sits down next to her, taking one of Athena's hands with desperation. Athena tilts her head to squint, noticing the tears for the first time, before she shudders as her skin registers the heat, the unbearable heat.

"Scaring?" She murmurs when it stops, voice coming out smaller than she intended it to.

"Her fever keeps rising and falling," Apollo reenters the room before anyone can answer, carrying a large tub of some odd liquid. "Here, help me rub this on her skin, it should extract any remaining- any remaining lightning."

They all move towards the tub at the same time, dipping the cloths provided and then taking positions in a circle surrounding her. Athena stiffens, fingers twitching for a weapon, but the first touch of Hera's drenched cloth on her forehead makes her moan in relief, the blessed coolness of it making her melt back into the sheets. She has no strength to complain or protest when her fellow gods each take a limb to rub at, a sensation both horrifically terrible and unbearably good. She has never taken her armour off in her life.

"Easy, that's it," Apollo says coaxingly, lips downturned like he's trying not to cry. She whimpers as the cloth on her left leg suddenly burns as a spark escapes, instinctively pulling it away, but Aphrodite grabs it before she can and resumes rubbing, whispering apologies. She turns her head and weakly opens her mouth for the herb Apollo lifts to her lips, desperate for relief from the splitting headache.

She can't think. She can't think.

Athena has no idea how long it goes on, how long the other gods ignore their realms to tend to her. Slowly, they strike up a conversation, something light-hearted that she can't follow- different from their never-ending arguments and insults, as they talk about the past year and humourous stories and varied anecdotes.

Athena can't help but relax into it, the soft bed at her back and gentle hands massaging her sore muscles and warmth all around her. Feels something trembling within her since she first became aware of herself settling down with a sigh.

Until she suddenly smells ozone.

Hera and Apollo both notice her tensing up immediately, and look to where she can hear slow footsteps approaching. Apollo growls and shoots out a hand, bringing up the shields of his realm.

The conversation dies down as they all look to the side, at the distinct shadow at the other side of the curtain.

Rage, Athena realises, thoughts slow and muddied. They're angry with him.

"I will handle this," Hera says coldly, with the steel undertone that Athena strives for. She moves her cloth aside and leans down to kiss Athena on the forehead, like a mother would. "You rest, my daughter."

Athena's breath hitches, eyes burning. Nobody has ever cared for her, apart from Zeu-

Nobody has ever cared for her.

... Nobody has-

Hera turns sharply at the noise that suddenly escapes Athena, half hysterical laugh and half distraught wail.

"Did I win?" Athena asks desperately, pushing herself upright, ignoring the protests of the others as she pulls her limbs from their grasp. Hera stares at her and Athena grabs the side of the bed as she tries to lever herself up like a wild animal, demanding in a broken voice, "Did I win?"

A silence that stretches for a painful moment before- "Yes," Aephastus says, putting his hand on her shoulder to guide her back from the edge. "Yes, Athena, you won."

A strangled gasp of relief leaves her, making her light-headed as she leans back against the pillows. She shivers, then sobs- humiliation running through her before she hears an answering noise of sorrow from Aphrodite next to her, pressure all around as her five younger siblings embrace her carefully, gently, like she would break at any moment.

She's not the one who's been raped by a Titan's daughter for seven years.

The thought has her breath hitching, wiping her tears away with a hand that refuses to co-operate the first few tries. "I need to-"

"No," Artemis snaps, glaring at her. "I know you think of nothing but your work, but Athena, you cannot do it this time." Outside, Hera's and Zeus' voices rise as they begin to shout and scream. "You must rest."

"N-no, that's not- aah," She groans as another aftershock rips through her, leaving her panting and soaked in sweat when it's done. "I need to- I need-"

"Hermes has gone to his grandson," Aephastus says soothingly. "Peace, Athena. Your hero is free."

For a moment, it doesn't comprehend and she stares at him blankly. "Free," She repeats, words still infuriatingly faint and lilting. "He's free? I- I need my helmet, where is-"

"No, Athena!"

"Sister, please, you cannot resume your duties, you are in no state!"

"I need my helmet, please, please- just give me my helmet!"

Her cry echoes off the walls and she hears herself when it bounces back to her, broken and pleading and so unlike her she feels nauseous. Her siblings have gone silent and still at her begging, staring at her with shock and horror and fear and sorrow alike. Even Zeus and Hera have stopped talking.

Athena shakes, wishing she could rip this awful vulnerability out of her veins, wishes she could find a stone footing to stand on once more, wishes she wasn't in this horrible chiton.

"Please," She whispers.

Quietly, Aephastus gets to his feet and walks in the direction of the nearby drawers, where she can now see her belongings stacked up haphazardly, blood-stained.

"Sister, you must calm down," Aphrodite pleads. She takes her hands and Athena dazedly looks down at her, with her wide, scared eyes. Seizure, her mind registers finally from Apollo's earlier talk. Ah. She seems to have frightened them all. "You cannot afford a relapse."

Athena squeezes her fingers in acknowledgement, but reaches for the helmet when it's held out, dented and worn.

She touches the metal and feels the full force of seven years of silenced prayers hit her at once.

She's crying before she knows she's doing it, clutching the helmet to her chest as the warmth of the worship wraps around her like a shawl, and holds it tight against her as Ares tries to pry it away.

"No, no!" Apollo intervenes, shifting forward. He touches a hand to the helmet and suddenly the hymn bursts forth around them, loud even though the prayer itself is quiet and broken. Athena inhales at the feeling of it, soothing over the cracks in her own mind with their never-ending continuity, desolate, unbroken faith even when she never came to help-

He's still singing.

She shifts her hands on the helmet to make sure but- yes. Odysseus is calling her, still, at this very moment.

Her head snaps up, but even the dizziness the motion causes doesn't take away from how much clearer the room looks. "Where is he?"

"Sister-"

"If you do not answer me, I will take to the skies myself," She says firmly. "Where is he?"

Her siblings exchange looks.

"Three days out from Ithaka," Artemis replies with a sigh. "On a raft. But listen, wait but an hour, at least absorb these prayers-"

Athena stumbles off the bed and pulls on the helmet, closing her eyes.

"Wait, the bandages-!"

"Athena, you'll hurt yourself, please!"

"Daughter, be careful!"

Athena opens her eyes and looks out at the waves, rough and choppy, but not enough to sink the raft. She looks down and looks at the way the faded clothes don't fit him, the way he has no water left to drink but he still continues to sing.

"Odysseus," She says, and he freezes.

A wave rises and falls. They stay silent, unmoving.

"Won't you look?" The words break out of her, cracked and desperate.

He inhales and exhales, tears in the sound of it. "I don't want to look if you're... if you're not really here."

She swallows against the lump in her throat, takes a step forward. "Well, I-" Her voice cracks, but the fragile grin on her face is real as it spreads, the frailest thread of laughter entering her voice. "I would hope. That if you were hallucinating of me, that the spectre would at least have wisdom enough to tell you that you were."

Odysseus sobs and her heart cracks, feels his heart cracking in turn; yet it is akin to a misaligned bone that never healed right and has to be reset- she can hear the laughter before it comes, with relief coming from the brink of madness, with joy they'd both forgotten and missed. "It is you."

"I could not reach you on Ogygia," She blurts out, desperate to make him understand. "Could not hear your call. I would have come the second time you prayed, if I had."

"It is you," He whispers, swaying. A wave rises suddenly and they both burst into movement, grabbing ropes and pulling the mast, balancing together to keep it steady.

The wave passes. They are almost touching now.

"Won't you look?" Athena asks again, raw and grieving. "Odysseus. My companion, my friend. Please."

He turns at that, a stunned expression on his face- before it turns into wide-eyed horror as he looks at her. She laughs breathlessly, slightly dizzy, but- her friend. How lovely it is to see him again.

"Athena!" He rushes forward with unexpected vitality, the parts of him that she knew suddenly rising to light in his eyes, in his movements, becoming unhidden from the defeated, beaten figure he'd been moments before. "What in Gaia's name-"

"I'm sorry," She interrupts as she slumps forward into the hands on her arms, off-balance. "I should have tried better to understand, all those years ago. I understand now and I- Odysseus, I am-"

"Athena, shut up," Odysseus snaps, clearly panicking. She laughs again, because isn't it such a novelty, to have a person who will have the audacity to tell her to? "Of course it's forgiven, I'm sorry too, I should have fucking listened back then- but listen, what in Hades happened to you? Why do you look like this- why do you have bandages- Hermes wouldn't answer when I asked if something happened to you, fuck-"

"Peace," Athena rasps, even as her vision blinks in and out, forcing her to kneel. They both grimace as another wave crashes into the raft, but they don't upturn. Odysseus kneels down with her, staring at her with such worry and concern she can feel nothing but fondness. "The disagreements of gods are often violent."

"Gods-" His eyes flicker to the side of her face, and he frowns, reaching out to push back the helmet. She bends her face down to let him, feeling an odd burning on the left side that she has a vague bad feeling about- proved right when Odysseus' expression falls into blank horror. "You got into a fight with-"

"Yes."

"But he's your-"

"I know. He did not take kindly to my petition to release you," She smiles dryly, without mirth.

"To release me?" Odysseus wheezes, face cracking into anguish and disbelief alike. "Athena, what- I- I'm not worth-"

"It was worth it," She snaps. "Consider it my penance for abandoning my own. I certainly don't regret it."

"I never felt abandoned," Odysseus whispers, taking her hands as she shifts, supporting her body with his own as they lean against the mast. She looks at him, and remembers why Penelope is still weaving, why he's still out on the waters, why Ithaka is waiting out the suitors till Telemachus takes the throne. "I always knew you would come back. I just figured it would take ten years more, perhaps."

Athena is silent for a bit, absorbing that. And then, because she can't hold it back any longer- "I am sorry about your men." His breath hitches under her and she turns to take him in her arms, knowing what's coming. "I am sorry about your friends."

He sobs, ugly and loud, and she holds him tighter. "I am sorry that Titan's whelp had you for so long, and what she did to you. I am sorry the Fates were so unkind."

"Athena," He keens, finally falling to pieces. The sobs are mere loud gasps for air at first, before it dissolves into wailing, screaming, grieving for all the men they'd kept alive through a war, only to lose them to this cruel tragedy instead. Even she hadn't known- hadn't anticipated how wrong things would go after she left. Hadn't even thought that he hadn't reached home.

"It's all my fucking fault," He shouts, shaking. "If only I had- if only-"

"It is not. No one could have known," She whispers. "The Fates are unknown to us all."

He sobs louder and she closes her eyes.

But finally, their tears dry up. She holds him still, as the night fades and the sun rises again, trying to take his hurt into herself so he can be happy again.

"I am sorry," She whispers, seaspray around them. "That my enemies became your own. That I pushed you so hard. That I chose you, and brought pain to your life so."

"Hey now," Odysseus says, pulling back to look at her, a broken smile on his face. "Hold your blasphemous tongue, before you insult the wisdom of Pallas Athena." She laughs, even as tears spill over. "Even if I had the chance to choose again right at this moment, my goddess, I would still choose you."

"That means more than you know," Athena murmurs, overcome. She gathers all her strength and reaches out to run a hand over his head, soothing his mind and driving away the last tendrils of madness that were still holding onto him. He sighs and relaxes under her, some visible weight lifting from his shoulders. "Still. I will learn from my mistakes. If you would give your old friend a chance-"

"Stop right there. Of course I-" Odysseus scoffs, reaching out to hold her left cheek for emphasis. "Athena, your left eye is half gone."

"Ah. Well, that explains the depth perception," She mutters, then bursts into giggles at the incredulous look on his face.

"Are you drugged?" Odysseus demands, but he's already trying not to laugh himself. They both move on fast. "What am I saying, of course you are- have you been drugged this whole time? Who on Earth drugged you?"

"That would be me," Apollo says, crossing his arms.

Odysseus snarls, grabbing his sword and swinging wildly in an arc, half-animal in his panic, pushing Athena behind him.

"FUCKING- whoa, hey, calm down, it's her brother, it's Apollo!" Apollo half-shrieks inelegantly, jumping back. "Honestly! Athena, call off your hero, please."

"Apollo?" Odysseus tilts his head, lowering his sword and narrowing his eyes.

Apollo stares at him. "Wow, you two- really do act the exact same, huh. Yes, Apollo, god of please let me change your fucking bandages, do you mind?"

Odysseus bows and murmurs apologies, clearly wary of getting into more trouble, but to her mild surprise walks behind Athena instead of to the other side of the raft.

"I don't need assistance," She mutters to him, even as she grimaces at the length of the chiton as she tries to pull herself upright.

"You're still dizzy," Odysseus points out, settling in behind her to hold her steady. He wipes at the tears still on his face and smiles at her. She manages a half-smile back. "Do you need to go back to Olympus?"

"Yes," Artemis crosses her hands and Odysseus' fingers tighten painfully on her shoulders.

"I'm not quite certain there's space for so many on this raft," Athena mutters.

"It's a magical raft, it'll survive- but never mind that, could you not have at least sent a message that you were okay?"

"Well, maybe you should have thought of that before running off without a word!"

"Really, daughter, you should know better!"

Odysseus grip is bruising now, and his sword is in front of Athena protectively; she can already tell what moves he's planning to use if they choose to attack. "Who..?" He asks lowly.

"Pantheon. At ease," She replies back shortly, before looking up at the others. "I thank you, my fellow go- my family, for your worry and concern. But we are only two days out from Ithaka and I would like to see this journey completed."

"You are not going to see yourself completed, if you don't rest," Apollo says, roughly at the exact same time that Athena undermines her own argument by throwing up on the raft.

"Athena, go," Odysseus says urgently when it's over, handing her helmet back to her and adjusting her cape as Hera kneels down beside her to hand her another glass of nectar, looking at him oddly. Odysseus grimaces and changes his tone. "I will be fine, patroness. I'll call for you when I reach the shores."

Movement catches her eye and she sees Ares remove his own helmet, giving her a reproving look. She remembers the speech he was talking about now- the one she'd loudly ranted at him when she was drunk a year ago, thinks about how much more at ease he is now.

"Alright," She acquiesces and everyone breathes a sigh of relief. "Two days."

Mania fills Odysseus' eyes as he smiles back, finally home from a war twenty years ago. "Two days."

Athena grins, even as she feels Hera wrap an arm around her to take her away. "Penelope is waiting."

Odysseus' eyes widen, then fill with tears, like he'd never quite truly let himself believe it; but his smile is wide and true. "Penelope is waiting. Thank you, Pallas Athena."

"You don't thank friends," She murmurs, exhaustion settling in. Odysseus laughs and the last thing she feels is a warm hand on her cheek and their foreheads pressed together, before the world goes black and she knows no more.

[consider-your-potatoes-mashed]

Okay so I’m heading back to school after spring break and my trip was AMAZING like seriously I loved it but wow I’m in so much pain now from everything we did. I had rest time and most days were laid back but damn even still. I made the mistake of bringing neither my crutches nor my braces with me because I thought they’d be a nuisance rather than helpful but I have definitely come to realize that any potential level of nuisance-ery is far less than the helpfullness of them. I hopefully won’t make that mistake again.

On another note screw the stairs you have to take up to a plane sometimes. Those are so wobbly and steep and long. And oh my my knees wanted to CRY.

[dissociacrip]

anyway um. shoutout to disabled people who move their bodies in ways that are considered "wrong" or "abnormal" regardless of the cause or how it's classified. and this isn't limited to just ambulation.

paralysis. dystonia. gait abnormalities. people with muscle weakness and/or atrophy. people with brain damage. rotational differences. clubfoot. knocked knees. other limb and bodily differences. functional deformities that affect movement. tissue contracture. muscular dystrophies. spasticity. impaired proprioception, balance, and/or coordination. chronic pain. spinal disorders. dyspraxia/DCD. apraxia. ataxia. dystaxia. tourette's syndrome and other tic disorders. conversion symptoms. tremors. neurodegenerative disease. degenerative bone diseases. joint instability. myoclonus. parkinsonism. tardive dyskenisia. various other neurological problems.

...and the list goes on.

personally i feel a bit surreal when my body not doesn't always move in the ways i want it to because that straightforward connection that's there for abled people has been disrupted in a myriad of ways. but no one is gross, ugly, or scary for being unable to move their body in ways that society considers "normal" and "healthy." no one deserves to be gawked/stared at or treated like they're subhuman because of the way their body moves.

it's okay for us to exist.

[visbacktatto]

viktor x assistant!reader

you were always too worried about viktor. you couldn't help it, not when he seemed so passionate about ruining himself for the sake of his research on hextech. someone had to take care of him, if not himself, you.

in the beginning it was difficult, when jayce brought you to the lab viktor gave you a studying look, sizing you up, deciding almost immediately they didn't need help, not yours, not from anyone.

but jayce had it known it was a non negotiable decision, he was getting more and more busy with the council work and viktor was surely exhausting himself with the research, he needed the help and you would be perfect for the part.

and you were, actually, slowly you proved your worth, being quite a genius on tech yourself, it wasn't hard to figure out the little instabilities with the hextech and help with the infinite calculations that came with the job.

and so, viktor started warming up to you, he started with asking for help in little things, like correcting an equation he couldn't seem to crack, checking some new invention that was malfunctioning every time he tried to start it, and every time he had to hide his surprised expression when you actually solved the problem.

so he started respecting you, and then, actually talking to you, letting you know a thing or two about him. how he liked his coffee, how organized he was with the notes on the notebook that he usually showed no one but now he's showing you, how passionate he actually was about giving people access to magic, about providing real change and comfort to the people in need and how far he was willing to go for it.

and you didn't even realize you were falling in love with him until one of those late, late nights in the laboratory, just the two of you working on some new tool together.

viktor was sleepy, clearly, you could see it in his tired eyes, but he was too stubborn to leave the work unfinished, leaned on a desk, being swallowed by the infinite papers with prototypes, he didn't even feel it when he fell asleep, his head resting on the cold surface above his notebook.

but you noticed.

it wasn't rare for him to sleep in the lab, he'd told you that before, you'd seen him early in the morning when you came to start working and he was already there. but it was the first time you saw it happening.

and he looked so beautiful, exhausted, the bags under his eyes profound, but undeniably beautiful. almost ethereal in that brief moment his body relaxed.

and you don't know why, but you reached his hair, your fingers featherlight when they brushed the brown strands, a surprisingly smooth sensation, his hair was soft.

and, yet unconsciously, he leaned into your hand, making you give into your sudden impulse and actually caress his scalp, gentle, caring.

later, when he woke up, he thought it was just a dream.

and from that day on you felt your heart beating fast almost whenever you were together. sitting side by side discussing something, his breath close to your face, his hand brushing yours when reaching for a pen, his knee touching yours under the desk when he was too focused on a new invention to move away, to keep his distant and cool demeanor, he was warmer now.

you continued doing little things for him, bringing him food when he forgot to eat and brushing it off as “i just bought too much for myself, do you want some?”, of course he knows you did it on purpose but he wouldn't point it. besides, he almost found it... endearing.

and on a particularly quiet night in the lab, the only sounds being of viktor's pen on paper and the soft hum of the machines surrounding you, you fell asleep there, for the first time.

the thing is, you were sat beside him, studying some pieces of a tool you've broken down to fix, and the moment you fell asleep your head was drooping to the side.

viktor thought it would give you a sore neck lately. of course it was the only reason he brought you closer to rest on his shoulder... it's not like he felt like he needed you close and couldn't resist seeing you so unapologetically adorable by his side... of course not.

he continued writing, but he was unfocused, the gentle weight of you resting on him occupying his thoughts. he didn't realize he was even moving before he brought you a little closer, his hand securing your waist, all in the name of making sure you were comfortable, he justified to himself.

you stirred, slowly waking up, your senses registering his scent before your eyes opened, he smelled good, like coffee, faint perfume and something indistinctly him. then you felt his hand resting on your waist, his warmth seeping through your clothes. and you could swear your face was warming up.

you opened your eyes, confirming your suspicion, you were resting on him, god you felt so embarrassed. “viktor? i'm sorry, i-” you mumbled sleepily, but he quickly brushed it off with a “no need to apologize, it's okay, you are tired”, his hand dropping from your waist out of surprise to see you awake, “maybe you should wrap it up for the day” he suggests.

you nod, slowly distancing your body from his, and he almost misses it. “maybe i should” you murmur, rubbing your eyes with your hand, trying to shake half of that sleepy haze away.

and you don't even notice that viktor is watching you. his eyes focused on your face, your cheeks looking a bit puffy, cute, even if he'd never mention it. his hand moved without his intent, holding your wrist, “you're feeling well?” he asked, sounding gentle, his accent thick, making your sleepiness almost dissipate by how fast he put your heart to race.

and he was feeling it, by holding your wrist he could feel your pulse picking up. not that he would mention.

“i'm fine i just... couldn't sleep tonight and i got a bit exhausted, i guess” you answered honestly, trying to not focus on his hold on your wrist.

he finally noticed he was holding your wrist so he dropped it. a little embarrassed himself by his actions. why was he acting like that? and before he could think it through he offered, “you can... continue, to sleep here... if it helps” what meant sleeping on him. but he didn't bring himself to say it out loud.

you looked at him a bit confused, and you were confused. what did he mean by that? sleeping in the lab? that was always uncomfortable, even if you couldn't seem to get some real sleep in your bedroom.

but before you could question further he gently pulled you closer, giving you the chance to put some distance between you again if you wanted to. he rested your head on his shoulder again, not saying anything about it, though.

you didn't know what to say either, your heart beating on your ears, loud, so loud that you could bet viktor was hearing it too.

and just when you thought you couldn't get more flustered, he searched for your wrist again, looking right at your eyes, searching for consent. that you understood the meaning. and you just nodded.

he entwined your fingers, a small, faint smile resting on his lips.

and you smiled too, and everything seemed right in the world in that stolen moment of peace.

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

Mike munroe x male reader

Summary: Two broken souls find solace in each other's arms. Two strangers in a support group, both scarred by their own demons. What started as shared vulnerability ignited into an electric connection, a fierce bond where Mike's protective instincts soon led to a heated desire neither of them could deny.

Requested from a really nice person here on tumblr. Hope you like it and sorry if i went overboard with your request <3

Tags: post event of Until Dawn. Everyone survived or Mike solo survivor, whichever one you prefer. Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Mike and Jess are not together in this. Strangers to lovers. Scene of panic attack. Smut. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Bottom male reader. Riding. Anal sex.

Words count: 5000

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

𝔉𝔯𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔟𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔱𝔥

𝔅𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔶 𝔰𝔲𝔭𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔱

𝔉𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢'𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔪

𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥 Part 2 of it

The room was quiet, the chairs were arranged neatly, giving an artificial sense of order to a room filled with emotional chaos and instability. The support group had just begun and already the air felt thick with vulnerability.

Mike Munroe sat toward the back, slouched slightly in his chair as if he didn't want to be noticed. His fingers tapped lightly on his knee, a nervous habit. He'd been to a few of these meetings now, always trying to blend in, hoping no one would ask too much of him. Sitting in this room surrounded by strangers, he was supposed to feel like he belonged, but he felt anything. He shifted in his seat, glancing around the circle, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone who looked too open, too eager to share.

Then his eyes landed on you.

Sitting a few seats away, you were quiet, withdrawn. You didn't seem to be paying attention to the group as much as you were lost in your own thoughts. Mike watched you for a second longer than he should have, curiosity tugging at the edges of his mind.

You looked familiar. Mike squinted subtly, trying to place where he'd seen you before. Classes? Maybe you shared a course or passed each other in the hallways. It was hard to say, but Mike couldn't deny the instant spark of recognition.

He had definitely seen you around.

The more he looked, the more he noticed how cute you looked. Your quite demeanor only made him more curious, especially since you hadn't spoken yet.

There was a vulnerability that mirrored Mike's own in some ways. You were trying to hide in plain sight, much like Mike had been doing. He couldn't shake the feeling that whatever had brought you here had left deep, unhealed wounds.

He didn't want to be another tragic figure, another story that people pitied. And yet, when he looked your way, there was something in your expression, a quiet strength that made him think you'd understand without judgment. His restlessness would ease just slightly when his eyes met yours, almost like it grounded him, bringing him out of his own thoughts

His thoughts drifted as he continued to sneak glances. He recalled seeing you once in the hallway between classes, maybe in a shared lecture hall, and he remembered thinking even then that there was something captivating about you.

Mike looked away quickly when you shifted in your seat, almost catching him staring. He wasn't here to be checking people out or getting distracted, but he couldn't help it. The way you sat quietly, as if trying to make yourself small, avoiding attention... it tugged at his protective instincts, the same ones that had kicked in back on Blackwood Mountain when everything had gone to hell.

The meeting was now over and chairs scraped against the floor as people stood up one by one, eager to escape back into their own lives.

You started gathering your things and as you glanced toward the door, you noticed Mike Munroe lingering by the exit. Your heart thudded lightly in your chest when he made eye contact with you, this time more intentional than the fleeting glances from earlier you noticed

There was something deliberate about the way he stood, hands shoved into his pockets.

He found himself hesitating for once. He usually bolted out of these things as quickly as possible. He watched you gather your things, preparing to leave, and Mike felt a strange pull to go talk to you.

His gaze flickers between you and the exit, caught in a moment of indecision.

Leave. Walk out now and avoid the vulnerability that talking to you would require. It's safe; it keeps him protected, doesn't risk exposing himself to someone he's only just met.

Take the chance. Go over and talk to you, risk the walls he's built around himself, and maybe find a connection that makes him feel whole again.

He takes a breath, steadying himself. And in a single, decisive moment, he makes his choice.

Take the chance.

A subtle shimmer appears, almost like a fleeting trick of light. A faint ripple in the air, the delicate flap of a butterfly's wings echoing outward.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

His heart pounded as he walked towards you, mentally rehearsing what to say. 'Hey, I've seen you around before' No, that sounded too stalker-ish. 'Mind if I walk with you?' Too forward.

He's close enough that you catch the faintest hint of cologne, something warm and subtly daring, like cedar and smoke. He clears his throat lightly, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Well, that was intense," he says with a hint of playful sarcasm. "Almost feels like we deserve a medal or something, just for sitting through it."

You stifle a chuckle, feeling the tension melt a bit. "Yeah, definitely not how I'd choose to spend a Thursday night."

"Oh?" His brows lift, clearly intrigued. "And what would be your first choice for a Thursday night, then?"

"I don't know," you say, tilting your head. "Maybe something quieter... or a little less emotionally heavy."

"Quieter, huh? So no candlelit dinners or late-night rooftop stargazing?" he quips, his voice smooth and teasing. "Guess I'll have to cross those off my list."

The flirtation in his tone catches you off guard, and you glance away, feeling your cheeks warm. Mike seems to notice because he chuckles, leaning in just a fraction, his voice dropping lower

"I noticed you," You said, your voice tentative, testing the waters. "I've seen you around at Westgate. You're kind of well-known."

Mike's smirk grew a little wider, and he tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing playfully. "So you've been checking me out, huh?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the directness of Mike's question, but before you could respond, Mike laughed lightly, clearly enjoying his own teasing. "I'm kidding," Mike said, though the playful glint in his eyes remained. "But now I'm curious... What've you heard?"

"I've heard some things," you said vaguely, trying to stay neutral. "People talk."

Mike raised an eyebrow, his smirk softening into something more thoughtful. "Yeah, people do love to talk," he said, a hint of bitterness creeping into his tone. "But most of it's bullshit. People don't know what happened. They just make up their own stories."

Your expression softened, sensing the change in Mike's tone. "Yeah, I get that," you said quietly. "People don't know the full story."

Mike glanced at you then, his eyes lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "Exactly," he said softly, his voice dropping slightly. "Not the kind of reputation I ever wanted, though."

There was a beat of silence between you two. You understood the need to avoid delving too deep into things that hurt, offering Mike an understanding look.

Mike caught the expression and quickly shifted the tone again, this time with a playful glint in his eyes. "But hey, I guess I'm kind of a big deal now, huh? Maybe I'll start signing autographs."

You couldn't help but laugh softly, shaking your head. "I'm sure people would line up for that."

Mike took a small step closer, his voice dropping just a little. "Would you?"

Mike's gaze lingered on your face for a bit too long, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

Your heart skipped a beat, unsure whether it was the intensity of Mike's stare or the fact that you felt seen in a way you hadn't expected.

Mike broke the moment with a soft chuckle, glancing down at his feet as if trying to shake off whatever had just passed between them. "Look," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "I'm not great at talking about this stuff, but it'd be good to have someone who gets it, you know? Like having each other's back or something."

There was a vulnerability there, hidden beneath the casual and confident tone, and you found yourself nodding before you even realized it.

"Yeah," You agreed. "That sounds good."

Mike pulled out his phone, his fingers tapping quickly before he handed it over. "Here, give me your number. That way, you can hit me up if you ever need."

You hesitated for just a second before taking the phone, feeling the warmth of Mike's hand as your fingers brushed. You quickly entered your number and handed the phone back.

"Cool," Mike said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "I'll text you later. You know, just to make sure you didn't give me a fake number or something."

You laughed again, the tension easing. "Yeah, I wouldn't want you thinking I was trying to ditch you."

Mike's grin widened, and for a moment, it felt like something was going to happen, something more than just words. But then Mike took a step back, his eyes still lingering on your face as he turned to leave.

The moment you stepped into your dorm, your phone buzzed eagerly in your pocket. Pulling it out, you saw Mike's name flashing on the screen. A grin spread across your face as you swiped to open the message.

Just making sure you didn't give me a fake number ;)

Day 1

Mike [9:35 PM]: Hey. Just making sure you didn't disappear on me after last night. Survived the rest of the day?

You [9:37 PM]: Barely but I’m still here. Didn’t think you’d notice.

Mike [9:40 PM]: Hard not to when you're the most interesting person in the room.

You [9:42 PM]: Pretty sure there were more interesting people there.

Mike [9:45 PM]: Nah, they were all talking about their problems. You? You're like a mystery I wanna figure out.

You [9:46 PM]: That's one way to get someone's number. Smooth, Munroe.

Day 5

Mike [11:22 PM): Do you ever feel like people are waiting for you to act a certain way? Like, they've already decided who you are?

You [11:25 PM]: Sometimes. People can be ruthless. You wanna talk about it?

Mike (11:30 PM]: It's weird. After Blackwood, everyone wants to know what happened but they don't really care, you know? They just want the story. I'm just someone who survived. It's not something I like thinking about.

You [11:35 PM): Yeah, I get that. People don't see what's underneath. They just want to know the stuff to discuss with others. It's tough. But you don't have to share that with everyone. You don't owe anyone anything. I'm sorry you feel this way, Mike.

Mike [11:37 PM]: Nah, don't be. I don't talk about it much, you know? But it helps. With you.

You [11:40 PM]: I'm glad I can help

Mike [11:41 PM]: You're the only one who doesn't see me as that guy from Blackwood Mountain.

You [11:41 PM]: You're just Mike to me.

Mike [11:42 PM]: that's why I like talking to you.

Day 7

Mike [6:05 PM): What're you up to?

You [6:10 PM]: Studying. You?

Mike [6:12 PM]: Thinking about how I hate that you're busy with something boring like that. We should hang out instead.

You [6:10 PM]: I've got an exam. Hanging out might have to wait

Mike [6:13 PM]: Exams are overrated I'm more fun anyway.

You [6:15 PM]: Flattery's not gonna work this time.

Mike [6:17 PM]: Who said I was flattering you? I'm just saying facts. I could help you study if you want. I'm great at, uh... distractions.

You [6:20 PM]: Right, because I need more distractions.

Mike [6:22 PM]: I'm an expert in distractions. Top of my class in Avoidance 101.

You [6:22 PM]: what does the final exam for that class look like?

Mike [6:25 PM]: It's an intense, highly advanced skill. Mostly it involves terrible movies and maybe some pizza. You're up for it?

You [6:27 PM]: Maybe later.

Mike [6:28 PM]: I'll hold you to that.

Day 13

Mike (3:15 PM): You free tonight?

You [3:18 PM]: Depends on what you're offering.

Mike [3:20 PM]: A walk, a drink, maybe we'll figure the rest out later.

You [3:22 PM): Sounds like you're trying to get me in trouble.

Mike [3:25 PM]: I'm just trying to get you to spend more time with me. Trouble's optional. You'll just have to put up with my charm for the moment ;)

You [3:27 PM]: Alright. Where are we going?

Mike [3:30 PM]: You trust me to surprise you?

You [3:32 PM]: Why not?

Mike [3:32 PM]: You won't regret it.

Day 24

Mike [11:50 PM): You looked good today, btw. Saw you in the library. Hard to miss when you're looking that sharp.

You [11:55 PM]: You saw me and didn't say hi? I'm offended.

Mike [00:01 AM]: Didn't wanna distract you. But next time, I'll make sure you can't escape me.

You [00:02 AM]: having trouble sleeping?

Mike [00:03 AM]: yeah. Another nightmare.

You [00:03 AM]: Want me to come over? We can hang out. No pressure to talk.

Mike [00:04 AM]: Yeah? That'd be great, actually. I could use the company. But only if you're cool with it. I don't want to drag you into my mess.

You [00:05 AM]: I'm already in it. Don't worry, Mike. I'll be there in 15.

It had been a few weeks at this point since your first meeting and the texts between Mike and you had become part of your daily routine. They didn't always talk about serious things. Most of the time they were just quick jokes, a random comment about a class or something funny one of you had seen on campus.

There had been that one night where everything seemed to shift between you and Mike. It had started like so many other nights, with the two of you sprawled out on the bed of your dorm room watching terrible horror films from sketchy free movie sites that Mike insisted on finding. The glow of your laptop screen illuminating your faces as you both leaned against the headboard.

It had become so normal to find him here, lounging on your bed or flipping through his phone while you studied or worked on assignments. In many ways it felt like you and Mike had been sharing this room for ages.

He strode in, tossing his jacket carelessly onto the back of your chair and remaining in a simple tank top, beads of sweat still lingering on his skin from the gym as he collapsed beside you on the bed. He immediately grabbed the laptop, pulling up the website you'd found for horror movie marathons.

"You really need to cool off," you muttered, half-joking as you hugged your hoodie tighter around you, trying to find some relief from the icy draft in the room.

"if you worked out with me, you wouldn't be freezing your ass off right now."

"I told you already that this week I couldn't" your voice was muffled by your hoodie as you reminded him of the upcoming exam you had, the warmth he was giving off made it hard not to scoot just a little closer.

"You're being dramatic. It's not that cold" The muscles in his biceps shifted slightly, not in an obvious display, but more like he was just getting comfortable, adjusting his position.

"You say that because you're like a human furnace," you shot back, trying not to let your gaze linger too much on the way his muscles flexed.

The screen of your laptop brightened up as the movie began.

The two of you had started a tradition of finding the worst horror movies you could dig up online. Free ones from obscure sites that had horrendous special effects and plotlines so laughable they were almost entertaining. It was like a competition on who could find the most hilariously bad movie.

At one point, Mike had shifted closer, closing the small distance between you. His arm had slid around your waist, pulling you gently against his chest as you both lay back on the bed, the soft glow of the laptop screen casting faint shadows across the room.

The last thing you remembered was waking up the next morning. It had taken you a moment to realize where you were, your body warm and heavy with sleep, but there was a steady pressure against your back

Mike's arm had been wrapped tightly around your waist, his sturdy chest pressed firmly against your back. He's breathing deeply, a low snore rumbling now and then, the sound soft against your ear, making the tiny hairs on the back of your neck prickle.

Mike stirred when he felt you shift, his arm tightening slightly around you before he let out a sleepy mumble. "Morning... Or, uh, afternoon?"

His morning voice was deep, husky, and the warmth of it against your ear made your heart skip a beat.

You turned your head slightly to look at him. "Afternoon. You comfortable there?"

Mike grinned, his face half-buried in your pillow. "You're the best pillow I've had in a while"

"Don't get too used to it. You hog the bed"

"I can't help it if I'm big and take up space," Mike teased, finally pulling away and sitting up. He stretched, his tank top riding up slightly, revealing a sliver of toned skin.

Something soon shifted between Mike and you after that moment.

It began subtly, with Mike showing up in the hallways just before your classes, waiting for you. He'd lean casually against the wall, his cocky grin in place as soon as he spotted you walking toward him.

"There he is," Mike would say, teasingly, every single time. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me."

You'd roll your eyes, smiling despite yourself. "You've got your own classes, you know. You don't have to wait for me."

"I know," he'd reply with a shrug, falling into step beside you, "but I have my priorities straight."

And that was the start of it. Before long, it wasn't just random meet-ups between classes. Mike was always there, hovering in the hallways, waiting for you after each period.

He also loved seeing you flustered, loved the way you'd get shy whenever he said something that was just a little too bold.

His once constant texts had dwindled, but only because he was with you in person almost every day. He'd walk with you, talking nonstop about everything and nothing, making you laugh with his over-the-top stories or complaining about how much he hated certain professors. He'd check in on you between classes, finding excuses to walk you to and from the dorms or to meet up for lunch.

He was everywhere.

It became so normal this routine of walking together that you started arriving late to class more often than not. Neither of you seemed to care much about the time, too wrapped up in your conversations.

There was also a different side to Mike, one that became obvious whenever anyone else tried to get too close to you. He'd start glaring at anyone who so much as looked at you the wrong way, standing just a little too close, his expression hardening.

Sometimes it was in the quiet way he'd linger just a bit closer when people passed by or in the way his eyes scanned the crowd, arm almost always resting comfortably on your shoulder. He was always aware, always attentive

A late afternoon, the two of you were back in your dorm, this time working on Mike's classwork. He was propped up against the wall on your bed, legs stretched out casually in front of him as he flipped through his notes while you sat beside him, trying to help him with some difficult subjects from his class while you sat cross-legged near the foot of the bed, focusing on explaining a concept that clearly wasn't sticking.

You glanced over at him to see if he was even paying attention as you began your speech.

Mike gave you a lazy grin, his brown eyes half-focused on the notes and half on you, not even bothering to deny it. "I think I'm getting more distracted than enlightened right now."

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to smile. "Distracted? How hard can it be to pay attention for 5 minutes?"

"Oh, I'm paying attention," he replied smoothly, his eyes shamelessly roaming your body. "Just... maybe not to the notes"

Your cheeks flushed, and you swatted his shoulder, a half-laugh escaping you. "Keep talking like that, and I might actually make you study."

Mike leaned in even closer, his shoulder now brushing against yours. "There are other ways you could help me... without the textbooks.”

You glanced up at him, narrowing your eyes in mock suspicion. "What exactly did you have in mind?”

Mike smirked, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before flicking back up to meet your eyes. "I'm sure I could think of a few things."

"You're hopeless," you said, though his voice was soft, not unkind.

"Hopelessly charming," Mike corrected, leaning in just enough so that your shoulders brushed again, his proximity impossible to ignore.

A sudden gust of wind rattled the windowpane, drawing both of your attention to the world outside. Snow had started to fall, tiny flakes drifting down in a serene, delicate pattern.

Mike's smile faded

His body grew still, his expression unreadable. Mike's playful energy had disappeared, replaced by something colder, more distant. His jaw tightened, the muscles in his shoulders tensed, his posture rigid as if bracing himself for something unseen.

You glanced up, your brow furrowing as you followed Mike's gaze to the window.

"Mike?" You asked softly, your voice gentle, concerned.

His gaze was still locked on the snow, his breath coming in shallow, uneven intervals.

He was back on that mountain, back in the freezing cold, back in the nightmare that had nearly destroyed him.

His hand jerks toward his left hand, gripping it tightly, pressing into the spot where two of his fingers are gone, severed by that brutal bear trap. The memory is vivid, visceral, a searing pain that haunts him, sending shockwaves through his hand as he clutches it, trying to stave off the ghostly ache. His whole body begins to shake, and you can see his chest rising and falling erratically, his breaths turning into strained gasps.

The screeching echoes of the wendigos in his head are getting louder and louder, and he can smell the stale scent of blood in the biting wind.

His hand drops to his lap, trembling violently, and he grabs the edge of the bed, his fingers digging in, his knuckles white as he grips it like it's his lifeline. "No, no, not again," he chokes out, his voice a raw whisper, barely audible

You reach out and place your hand on his shoulder, your touch firm, grounding, and his eyes flicker, focusing on you for a split second before glazing over again. His breaths are erratic, shallow and quick, and his face twists with panic as he fights to stay present, his whole body trembling. "Mike, look at me," you say, your voice steady, trying to reach through the fog of fear. "You're here. You're safe. It's just snow, nothing else."

Slowly, he seems to register your words, his gaze flickering back to you, his breathing still labored but slowing slightly as he focuses on the warmth of your hand on his arm.

"I thought I was past it," Mike admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it keeps coming back. Like I'm right there again."

He trailed off, his voice breaking slightly as the weight of it all pressed down on him.

"You're not there anymore," you said softly, your voice full of quiet reassurance. "You're here. With me."

His eyes were drawn to your lips. The way they were slightly parted, the soft flush of color there. He hadn't realized just how close you were sitting until now.

Mike's breath hitched slightly as he swallowed hard, his gaze fixated on your lips. He felt an overwhelming pull, like gravity itself was drawing him closer, and suddenly, all the fear and tension that had gripped him earlier faded into the background. His thoughts narrowed to a single focus.

Pull back. The fear of what this could mean loomed large. He could stop now, retreat to safety, and keep his heart protected.

Go for it. Take that leap into the unknown, embrace the connection forming between you, and let the moment unfold.

Mike's breath quickened as he hovered just inches from you, the world outside forgotten. In that heartbeat, he made his choice.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, Mike began to lean in, his body moving of its own accord, his instincts guiding him now. He paused for a split second, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, searching for any sign of hesitation, any signal that he should stop.

But your gaze remained steady, your eyes soft, open, and Mike took that as all the permission he needed

His lips brushed against yours, hesitant at first, testing. Then something inside Mike broke free. The kiss deepened, becoming more insistent, more demanding, as if he couldn't get close enough. His hand moved to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in, and the kiss grew rougher, needier.

Mike's other hand found its way to your waist, gripping you with a quiet desperation, his fingers digging into the fabric of your shirt. His chest pressed against yours as he angled his head, deepening the kiss even further, his lips moving with a hunger he hadn't realized he was holding back.

You leaned into Mike's touch, matching his intensity. Mike's breath hitched as his tongue slowly flicked out, teasing your bottom lip. When your lips parted slightly, giving him the invitation he was waiting for, Mike couldn't hold back the groan that escaped him.

It was a low, deep sound that rumbled in his chest, full of need and relief. His tongue slipped past your lips, moving with a slow, deliberate exploration, tasting, savoring.

His tongue moved deeper, seeking out the warmth of your mouth, exploring with a kind of roughness, a hunger that Mike couldn't quite control. He groaned again, the sound muffled by the kiss, his fingers tightening their grip on your waist as he pulled you closer.

His body was warm, solid, and you instinctively crawled into his lap, seeking the closeness that both of you seemed to need in that moment. You straddled him, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his thighs, your hands cradling his face. The light scruff of his beard scratched against your palms as you kept kissing him deeply.

Mike's mouth found your neck, his lips trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. His breath was hot against your throat and you tilted your head back, giving him more access. His tongue brushes lightly against your skin as his hands tightened on your hips, pulling you down harder against him.

You shifted in his lap, your movements slow and deliberate as you began to grind against him, the tension between you building with every passing second. Mike let out a low, guttural sound, his hands gripping you tighter as he moved with you, his hips rising to meet yours in a rhythm that grew more urgent by the minute.

"God," he muttered against your neck, his voice thick with need. "You feel so good.."

His hands gently rested on your ass, groping the delicate and soft flesh gently while he took off all the pieces of clothing protecting it.

He circled your hole gently before pressing his finger inside up to the second knuckle, leaning down to kiss you firmly

Working the two fingers in deeper, Mike watched for any reaction, kissing your lips over and over when you squeezed his shoulders.

Suddenly you let out a strangled cry of pleasure, hips bucking upward to press the two fingers in deeper. That was the spot you wanted. He massaged that little area over and over, biting little marks along your shoulders and upper chest.

After the third finger you were begging for more, digging your nails into Mike's shoulders and moaning against his lips.

With trembling hands, you reached down, feeling the heat of his arousal through the fabric that still separated you. The anticipation was a slow burn, an exquisite torture as you took your time, savoring the way his breath hitched, the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch.

And then, with deliberate slowness, you freed him, your hands sure and steady as you positioned yourself over him.

His gaze never left yours as you slowly sank down onto him, the feeling so overwhelming that it stole the breath from your lungs. The sensation of him filling you, stretching you, was almost too much.

A low groan rumbled from deep within his chest as he watched you. His hands moved up your back, tugging at your shirt as he pulled it over your head, discarding it onto the floor without a second thought.

You responded in kind, your hands sliding under his shirt, your fingertips brushing against the hard planes of his chest.

Mike's hands found your hips again, and this time his grip was firmer, more urgent, as he guided you to rock against him with more intensity. The friction between you was almost overwhelming, and you could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter with every movement, every touch.

His breathing was heavy, ragged, and with each thrust, a low, guttural grunt escaped his lips. He tried to lose himself in the moment, to forget the memories that haunted him.

As the intensity between you built, Mike's movements became rougher, more demanding. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements as you rocked against him harder, faster. You could feel the heat building between you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable

Without warning, Mike grunted softly, his arms wrapping tightly around your frame as he lifted you off his lap in one smooth, fluid motion. You gasped at the sudden shift, your legs instinctively wrapping around Mike's waist as you were lifted off the bed. Mike was still fully inside you, enveloping you in a warm, secure cage formed by his strong, protective arms.

His hands gripped your thighs tightly, keeping you secure as he lowered you onto the mattress with a quiet grunt, his body hovering over yours, never once breaking their connection.

His eyes locked with yours, filled with a mixture of desire and vulnerability, and he leaned down to kiss you again, his lips soft but insistent.

The moment you two were settled, Mike began to move again, his thrusts deep and powerful as he pressed your body into the mattress. His hands gripped your things firmly. He was doing everything in his power to please you, to show how much you were appreciated.

His eyes locked on yours as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. It was rough, desperate, filled with the same urgency that was driving Mike's movements. His tongue slid into your mouth.

Mike groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest as he continued to move, his pace quickening, his hips snapping forward with a roughness that sent waves of pleasure through your body.

His body pressed against yours, warm and solid, grounding you in the present moment.

With a final, powerful thrust, Mike let out a deep, guttural grunt, his body trembling as his release washed over him, sending shudders through his entire frame. You cried out, your own climax hitting you at the same time, the intensity of it all making your body tremble beneath Mike's.

Mike collapsed beside you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His arm draped across your waist, pulling you close and giving you the chance to bury your face in the crook of his neck. You could feel the tension in his body slowly start to fade, his breathing evening out as he relaxed into you.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice rough but filled with gratitude. His lips pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, his arms still wrapped tightly around you as if he couldn't bear to let go.

He shifted slightly, adjusting his position so that he could hold you more comfortably, his arms still wrapped around you protectively. His breathing slowed further, the deep, steady rhythm of someone who was finally allowing himself to drift off, to surrender to the quiet peace.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Mike allowed himself to relax completely. There was no tension in his body now, no lingering fear or panic. He might not have been fully healed, but in this moment, he felt whole. And that was enough.

Mike let out one final, soft breath before sleep claimed him-peaceful, quiet, and free. For tonight, at least, the nightmares would stay away.

Note: If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.